


All the Way Home I'll Be Warm

by lco123



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: Four Christmases Pam Fields accidentally spends with Barry Maple, and one they spend together on purpose.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speakpirate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakpirate/gifts).



> This is an early Christmas present for my friend and coauthor speakpirate (possibly the world's only other Pam/Barry shipper). It's been so wonderful getting to know you and write with you these past few months! I'll return to our fic soon, but this story demanded to be written.

It’s been a decidedly hard Christmas.

Pam and Wayne are in Texas, and they were planning on flying Emily out over her Christmas break. It was going to be the first time they’d all spent Christmas together in three years. But then Emily and her friends stumbled across a shovel that apparently means they’re involved in Alison’s murder, and now Pam has to come back to Rosewood to keep an eye on her possible-convict daughter. She knows that Emily couldn’t possibly be involved—she wasn’t raised that way, and besides, Emily loved Alison far too much to do anything to her. Probably more than Pam even let herself realize.

Still, it’s scary, not to mention disappointing, and on top of it all Emily isn’t talking to her. Luckily, the renters at their house are away for the holidays, so Pam at least gets to be in the comfort of her own home. Though it doesn’t feel particularly comforting, without the family photos on the walls or Pam’s cozy sweaters in the closet. She doesn’t even bother with a tree; she isn’t really in the spirit, and she won’t be home long enough for it to make much financial sense.

The hardest part might be seeing Emily this way: stressed out and distracted, unable to find the Christmas spirit that has lived in her heart since childhood.

“Honey, please talk to me,” Pam begs. “I know that something else is going on.” Emily only shrugs in reply, snaps that she’s fine, and starts doing more crunches.

Veronica Hastings calls a summit of the other moms, and Pam makes sure to bring lots of homemade peppermint bark for everyone to enjoy. Ashley and Ella are vey nice, and Veronica is her usual all-business self, but Pam can tell that they judge her, just a little. Ella may have moved out of her home, Veronica and Ashley may be busy with their careers, but at least they didn’t leave. They were here, when Pam wasn’t. Ashley’s probably made Emily feel more comfortable than Pam ever has.

After the meeting, in which absolutely nothing is determined, Pam gets home feeling rather dejected. Emily is out, maybe with her friends, maybe with a new girlfriend. Pam reheats some leftover lasagna and pours herself a glass of wine. She’s partway through “It’s a Wonderful Life”—working very hard not to cry at the scene where George Bailey comes home to Mary on their wedding night—when there’s a knock at the door.

Pam quickly wipes her eyes and goes to answer it, surprised to see Officer Barry Maple at the door. She immediately blanches, certain it’s news about Emily. She’s been arrested again, or she’s wrapped her car around a tree. Surely something awful has happened.

“Good evening, m’am,” Officer Maple says softly. He’s much less gruff than Wilden and the other police officers in town.

“What’s wrong?” Pam asks in a rush, not bothering to sound polite.

Officer Maple shakes his head. “Nothing at all. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi. How are you?”

“Oh,” Pam replies, chagrined for her abruptness. “Well, I’m…I’m fine.” The lie sounds obvious even to her own ears.

Officer Maple nods like he doesn’t quite believe her, before extending his wrist. A wreath adorned in ribbons and holly is balancing on it. “Your house always has the best decorations on the block,” he explains. “I thought it could use some extra cheer this year.”

Pam narrows her eyes. “I thought you were just on your way by.”

Officer Maple shrugs. “Maybe I stopped at the store first,” he says with a slight twinkle in his eye.

Pam smiles, just a little. She glances around at their yard, naked of its typical Christmas decorations. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” She eases the wreath off his arm. “Our house could definitely use it.”

Officer Maple nods. She doesn’t know him well, but he’s always been pleasant. Incredibly kind, even when delivering bad news. “Do you want to watch 'It’s a Wonderful Life' with me?” she offers all of a sudden.

Officer Maple straightens up, taking a step back. “I’m afraid I’m on the job right now. But I appreciate the offer, m’am.”

“Please don't call me m’am,” she asks him, gently. “It makes me feel old.”

“Alright, Mrs. Fields,” he corrects with a slight chuckle. _Mrs. Fields_. It sounds so married, and makes Pam feel odd for her invitation to come inside. She’s almost grateful he can’t join her.

“I do love that movie, though,” Officer Maple adds as he walks toward the steps.

“Me too,” Pam tells him. “I watch it every year.” He starts down the stairs, heading toward the sidewalk. Pam glances down at the wreath in her hands before calling after him, “What do you want, Mary?”

Officer Maple swivels around, looking straight at her. “You want the moon?” he quotes in reply. “Just say the word, and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.”

\--

  
Christmas seems to be the time of year when all of Pam’s plans unravel.

Wayne is back oversees, and just thinking about that makes Pam feel queasy, but she had a plan. Emily was going to come home for nearly two weeks, leaving sunny California and her freshman dorm for a true Rosewood white Christmas. But instead of a white Christmas, it’s turned out to be a stormy one, with a blizzard engulfing most of the East Coast and forcing every airline into flight-cancellation mode. Which means Emily is staying put, and, not for the first time, Pam finds herself alone on Christmas Day.

She thinks about planning something last-minute with her friends, maybe seeing if Ella or Ashley are around, but nobody in available, so she decides she’ll see if the police station could use her for an extra shift. What with Emily in college, she’s been working back at the station, and there’s nothing like a job to keep her mind off her loneliness.

But the station itself is pretty lonely too, with only Pam, Barry Maple, and two rookie officers. There’s lots of paperwork to catch up on, though, and Pam gets to work, burying herself in mindless filing. Suddenly it’s nearly eight o’clock, and the storm is worse than ever.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a while, folks,” Barry tells them with dismay. “It’s pretty awful out there.”

The two young officers sigh in disappointment. Pam knows them both, just a little, and they’re good people. Both with families that they’d surely like to get back to. It makes her think about when Emily was little, when she and Wayne didn’t have much money, but loved being together more than anything.

“We’ve got tunes, though, right?” Pam asks.

Barry nods. “How do we feel about Frank Sinatra Christmas music?”

Pam grins. “We feel great about it. And I have an idea.”

She hustles off to the vending machine just as “The Christmas Waltz” starts to play. An hour later, Pam has stripped the meat off a few bologna sandwiches for Christmas “ham”, mixed crushed potato chips with string cheese, and made something not unlike a pie out of trail mix, snack cakes, and half-and-half. Barry managed to find a string of Christmas lights in a storage closet, and when he plugs them in and turns off the fluorescents, the station almost looks a little magical.

“Wow,” gasps one of the rookie officers. Pam agrees. It’s not home, and it doesn’t feel exactly like Christmas, but it feels like something. Something warm, and pretty good, all things considered.

“Merry Christmas,” Barry tells her, pulling out Pam’s desk chair like they’re at a fancy restaurant.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, smiling widely for the first time all day. She takes her seat, relishing in the cozy atmosphere she and Barry have created, and trying very hard to ignore the small spark she feels when his hand brushes against her own.

\--

  
This year Pam isn’t alone, but it still might be the hardest Christmas she’s experienced. She’s at Ashley Marin’s Christmas party, and everything is lavish and beautiful. Emily’s even home. But Wayne isn’t. Wayne will never be home again.

Pam hasn’t known what to do with herself, but Ashley insisted she come to the party, and so here she is. Hiding out in a doorway, avoiding everyone. It isn’t too hard. Everyone seems to be avoiding her too.

Eventually Barry strolls up and leans against the other side of the doorframe. She thinks he’s going to say something, though he’s already offered condolences, but he doesn’t.

It feels good. No, not quite good. But it feels safe.

Pam smiles lazily. She’s had a glass and a half of Ashley’s famous eggnog—which seems to contain more rum than anything else—and she’s been pointedly not drinking since Wayne died, so it’s gone straight to her head.

Barry studies her without saying anything, but she doesn’t entirely mind. His gaze is soft; Pam knows what Barry looks like when he’s suspicious of someone—she’s even been on the receiving end of such a stare—and this isn’t it. She’s surprised to realize that she’s kind of missed Barry. Since quitting the station a few months back, they’ve barely seen one another.

It occurs to Pam that she hasn’t felt this warm in quite some time, not since long before she got the news about Wayne. Barry’s eyes are bright, his hands look strong but soft, and his face is open. Not expectant, just pleasant. Respectful. Kinder than any man she’s known in this town.

Besides her husband.

Then her eyes drift to above his head, where something catches her eye. Hanging from the doorway is a bundle of green leaves wrapped in red ribbon.

Mistletoe.

“Barry,” Pam murmurs, her voice sounding unlike her own. “Look up.”

Barry does as he’s told, and his hand immediately flies to the back of his neck and starts rubbing. “Mrs. Fields,” he says gently, like he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Pam rushes to explain. “We don’t have to do anything about it. Though Emily would have a fit if she knew we were disobeying the rules of Christmas.”

Barry actually seems to flush slightly, so Pam adds, “I’m only teasing. Besides, what would a young man like yourself want with a forty-something widow?” The last word catches in her throat, coming out more pained and less jokey than she intended. Pam suddenly feels her eyes prick with tears, just slightly. Barry must see or sense the emotion, because he tilts his body closer toward her. Just the gesture is a comfort.

“Mrs. Fields,” he repeats.

“Pam,” she corrects, not for the first time.

“Pam,” he amends with a slight nod of his head. “I know this holiday season hasn’t been easy for you.”

“No, it certainly hasn’t,” she acknowledges.

Barry glances up at the mistletoe, then back down at Pam. “Your husband is gone, but you’re still here. You’re not finished yet.”

Pam has a feeling that this is where Ashley Marin would flash a sly smile, maybe extend a suggestive line in return. But Pam has none to offer. “Thank you,” she says instead.

Barry smiles, just a little. “And I’m not so young, just so you know.”

Pam wrinkles her nose. He might be flirting, or maybe she’s just imagining it. Either way, it surprises her how much she doesn’t mind. “How come you’re not married?” she asks. It’s the kind of question she can blame on being slightly inebriated.

“Married to the job, I suppose. It keeps me busy,” Barry replies with a shrug. “I guess I never found anyone worth slowing down for.”

“Would you like to get married someday?”

“If I found the right woman,” Barry answers. “I’d want someone…someone who’s lived, y’know?”

Pam’s ears prick with heat. “I get it.”

Barry gets quiet again, and Pam half expects him to move along. This conversation has probably gotten deeper and more personal than he was hoping for, and he’s likely regretting his decision to start chatting with Rosewood’s most recent widow.

But instead he stays, and he stares at her again. He's not quite smiling, but his eyes are so gentle that Pam feels warm from head to toe.

“I’m going to kiss you,” she announces before she lets herself think about it.

Barry blinks. “Okay.”

Pam tilts her head upward, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him soundly on the mouth. As kisses go, it’s pretty chaste, and it really isn’t bad, either. But it’s downright _odd_. Pam hasn’t kissed anyone else in—she can’t remember how long.

She pulls back quickly.

“Are you alright?” Barry asks with concern.

“I’m sorry,” Pam says quickly, feeling her eyes start to get teary again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay,” Barry tells her. “It was the mistletoe. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Pam keeps her gaze down, refusing to look at Barry’s face, and turns on her heel. She rushes out of the party without another word to anyone.

Years later, Barry will tell her: if she’d looked up, she would’ve seen his look of disappointment as she left him behind.

\--

  
Pam always sort of figured Emily would want a Christmas wedding, and right she was.

She was right about Emily marrying Alison too. After years of circling one another, of almosts and false starts, the two girls are finally on the same page. The quaintness of their arrangement is almost laughable, given how extraordinary their lives have been up to this point. But here they are: Emily as the Rosewood High swimming coach, Alison as a Rosewood High English teacher, in the newly renovated DiLaurentis home. Safe and settled and starting their lives together. It’s truly beautiful.

Thankfully, it’s snowy but not stormy, and just about every invited guest has RSVPed Yes, meaning the Radley and the Fields and DiLaurentis houses are packed to the brim. Two days before the wedding, Emily arrives back at Pam’s house looking sheepish.

“What’s up?” Pam asks, still distracted by the menu she’s been triple-checking.

“Can we add one more to the list?” Emily asks.

“Who?” Pam asks.

Emily sits down across from her at the kitchen island. “Barry Maple,” she replies.

Pam lifts her head, frowning. She’s barely talked to Barry since their Christmas kiss a few years back. It’s not that she’s been pointedly avoiding him, it’s just…well… It’s hard not to be a little embarrassed. She was grieving, and still so raw. There are a lot of things she wishes she could take back from that time.

“I ran into him in town,” Emily explains. “He asked how you were doing, and, well, I don’t know. He’s always been one of the only decent men in Rosewood, and I’m so full of love right now that I think I just had to share it.”

Emily has a bit of a sparkle in her eye, and Pam's not sure if it's bride-to-be excitement or something more. "Okay," she agrees guardedly. "We have enough food, I think."

Emily beams. "Awesome!" She bounces off, likely to go see what Alison is up to.

When the wedding day arrives, the afternoon before Christmas Eve, Pam has a million things to focus on. The girls haven't hired a wedding planner, and so Pam and Ashley have taken it upon themselves to attend to many of the details. The Radley is all decked out, with garlands and lights everywhere, and chairs and a platform set up for the ceremony. It may not be a church, but Pam can understand why the girls would want to avoid that place, and she must admit that this spot looks pretty idyllic.

It's an hour until she has to go get dressed, and Pam is up on a ladder fixing one of the garlands when she hears footsteps behind her.

"Would you like some help?" a familiar voice asks.

Pam closes her eyes briefly before twisting around to look. There, standing before her, is Barry Maple. Not in uniform for a change, but instead in a well-tailored gray suit. He looks wonderful.

"Barry!" she says as warmly as she can, trying to mask her surprise. "Lovely to see you. But the wedding isn't for another two hours."

Barry furrows his brow. "I'm sorry," he says. "Emily told me to be here now."

Pam purses her lips as she steps down from the ladder. "She did, did she?"

Barry nods. "But I can go." He looks around a little helplessly.

"No," Pam tells him. "That's okay. Unless you'd like to go?"

"No!" Barry replies quickly, shaking his head. "I'm happy to stay."

The moment feels at once quiet and heavy, and Pam is anxious to get away from it. "Let me go check in with Emily. She's upstairs getting ready. You can...uh...help set up the chairs." She glances at the chairs, already neatly arranged in front of the podium. If Barry is confounded by her suggestion he doesn't let on, merely nodding and setting about straightening the completely straight rows of chairs.

Pam storms into the elevator and is still fuming a bit by the time she reaches Emily's hotel room. Emily answers the door with the blow dryer in hand, her hair still pretty wet. "Hey Mom," she greets innocently.

"Don't 'Hey Mom' me, young lady!" Pam scolds crossly, brushing past Emily into the room. "What is Barry Maple doing here?"

Emily attempts a nonchalant shrug. "He got the timing wrong?" she tries.

Pam glares at her. “Is this a set-up?” she asks in her most interrogatory voice.

Emily scoffs as though she has no idea what Pam’s talking about, but she withers under Pam’s stare. “Maybe a little,” she admits. “It’s just—Mom, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to find someone. I know that Dad would want it for you. You’re still young. You’re—”

“Not finished yet,” Pam says softly, recalling Barry’s warm words the night of their ill-fated kiss.

“Exactly,” Emily says with a small smile. “Barry is a really good guy. I know you've always liked him."

"How do you know that?" Pam asks with a frown.

"Call it daughter's intuition," Emily offers.

"It's not like I've been a complete shut-in since your dad died," Pam tells her. "I've dated."

"But you haven't connected with anyone," Emily points out. "You've known Barry forever. Give him a chance."

Pam sighs. "You need to finish drying your hair," she observes, reaching out to touch a strand of Emily's damp locks.

"I do," Emily agrees. "And you can't leave Barry all alone down there. That's not being a good hostess."

Pam snorts. "You're a very clever girl, y'know that? Alison's quite lucky."

"Thanks, Mom," Emily replies, squeezing Pam's shoulder. "Now go get him."

Pam manages to find a few more jobs for Barry to do, and she discovers that the more time they spend together, the easier it is to talk to him. She learns that his nephew, who she meant once at the station, started kindergarten this year, and that Barry is up for a promotion. He asks about Emily and the house.

"Have you watched 'It's a Wonderful Life' this year?" he asks at one point as they're sorting silverware.

Pam shakes her head. "No time. Have you?"

"I haven't," Barry tells her.

This feels like an opportunity, a critical moment. Pam thinks about the wreath Barry brought her, about the way he gamely dug into her makeshift pecan pie at the station, about his reassurance after she tipsily kissed him all those Christmases ago.

She kind of wants to kiss him again. And she doesn't even want to blame it on the mistletoe.

"Would you like to come over and watch it with me after the wedding?" Pam asks.

Barry grins. "I think I'd like that very much."

Pam nods and picks up another spoon to polish. "Great. It's a date."

Barry's ears seem to perk up slightly at her choice of words. "Are you sitting with anyone at the wedding?" he inquires.

"No," she answers.

"Want to sit with me?"

Pam bites her lip. In spite of herself, she feels shy. Girlish.

"I think I'd like that very much."

\--

  
On Pam and Barry's first Christmas together as a couple, she gives him a framed cloth with the words "George Lassos the Moon" embroidered on it.

"Merry Christmas," she says.

"I love you," he replies.

And Pam knows it: this Christmas, she couldn't feel further from cold or lonely. She feels filled, from top to bottom, with nothing but love.


End file.
